


(Darling, Darling, Darling) Let me Shelter You

by hermesbabie



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cunnilingus, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Mpreg, Impregnation, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Nightmares, Tender Sex, Trans Male Character, Trans Sylvain Jose Gautier, Vaginal Sex, no beta we die like Glenn, sir these are my emotional support war criminals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:07:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29327526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hermesbabie/pseuds/hermesbabie
Summary: At night, he dreams of being young again.And then it is just a heartbeat in his ears.And then it stops.-Sylvain wakes up from a nightmare feeling down. Felix goes down on him.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	(Darling, Darling, Darling) Let me Shelter You

**Author's Note:**

> Laugh at the summary pun. LAUGH.
> 
> This is a kinkmeme fill for [this prompt](https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/2082.html?thread=3725858#cmt3725858), requesting trans Sylvain getting eaten out by one of many suitors (I picked Felix because MAN do I love this ship). I hope you enjoy!
> 
> *This fic featuers a trans man interpretation of Sylvain as written by a transmasculine person. The word "clit" is used in reference to his genitals, but I tried to keep the other words pretty neutral. This fic DOES include implications of (very much intentional and wanted) pregnancy. Please stay safe and comfortable!  
> *TW for minor body horror; Sylvain experiences a partial version of Miklan's transformation in a nightmare. It is not graphically described and is very brief.  
> *Title from "Little Words" by The Happy Fits :3

At night, he dreams of being young again. 

Some nights, it is pleasant- he dreams of a carefree youth, traversing the Gautier estate and discovering the best hiding places, the best places to steal away with pinched snacks while his betters pretended to not know where he was (stowed behind the grain sacks in the closet in the East wing- once he had identified it, he knew he would find no better).

Some nights, he dreams of the Academy. He replays the night he and Annette had braided Felix’s hair as he slept, and barely escaped with their lives when he woke up. Then, too, he had ended up in a storage closet, Annette pressed to his side and barely containing her giggling. Whether it was the failure of that containment or Felix’s childhood memories of being in her position, he had found them. Annette, smaller than either of them, had ducked under Felix's arm and left Sylvain to his fate. Admittedly, he deserved it.

The dreams of Felix are his favorite. The first time they’d kissed, after a mission, sloppy and desperate, just grateful to see each other alive. The first time they’d made love, all wandering hands and curious tongues and moans smothered into plush Academy blankets. When he’d asked Felix to marry him, and his cheeks burned brighter than the Blue Sea Moon’s sun. When he signed his first paper as _Sylvain Jose Gautier-Fraldarius_. 

Other nights are not so gracious. He dreams of the war. Dimitri, unrecognizable, spits hatred and threatens his life with sincerity. His beloved hits himself the first time he cries in front of him. His lance guides itself through the tenth, fiftieth, hundredth nameless soldier’s chest. It is rarely worse than that, the stench of blood and rot filling his lungs, his ears ringing with screams, feeling nothing despite it all. It is rarely worse than that, but when it is, it is always the same dream.

Tonight, he dreams of Miklan.

That lance, that stupid _fucking_ lance, in all it’s jagged, asperous glory, becoming nothing as it turns his brother into a beast. He - it - Miklan; Miklan roars. The Professor and his peers fade into shadowed nothingness as his own legs stick to the floor, and he finds himself static beyond the shuddering rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to breathe. Then the voices begin.

 _Could have been you_ , hisses one. It might have been either Miklan or his father. They always sounded so similar. 

_Should have been you_ , another seethes. 

They are not wrong. Had it been him born without a crest, rather than Miklan, it would have been him disinherited and thrown out of his home. He would have hurt. He would have grown cold and bitter. When the time came, he would have been put down like the dog he became.

 _Make it right_ surrounds him, foul black tendrils beginning to wrap around his ankles, forcing him to his knees, _This is how you make it right_. When he musters the strength to look down, his legs are gone, consumed by the void that took Miklan. He does not bleed, but can feel his blood being changed, his energy sapped and his thoughts replaced a cacophony of wretched thoughts, _you did this, you deserve this, you should have been angrier, fool, brat, whore, waste of breath_ -

And then it is just a heartbeat in his ears.

And then it stops. 

-

He awakens with a start, his eyes shooting open and the breath being stolen from his lungs. He can only heave for a few moments, the words no longer spoken, but nonetheless ringing in his ears. He shifts his legs- they are still there, and are entangled in his husband’s. It is still dark outside, the moon high in the sky, the sounds of crickets chirping and autumn winds leaking in through the cracked window.

“Syl?” 

He startled at the sound of Felix’s voice, still soft and heavy with sleep.

“‘m okay,” he managed, “Bad dream.” He turned himself over, pressing his face into Felix’s chest. A comforting arm wrapped around him, rubbing circles into the knots in his spine. The touch made him sigh- with relief, or simply as a release of love, he didn’t quite know. Likely both.

They stayed like that a while, breathing together, Felix pressing delicate kisses to the top of his head and whispering lovely things like a prayer; _I’ve got you, gonna take care of you, always take care of you, just be with me, Sylvain, beloved, songbird, starlight_. His characteristic bristle and bite were nowhere to be found- not when his husband needed him. He did not judge him when he felt tears wet his chest and roll onto the sheets, only held him closer and continued his shower of affections.

When the bulk of the sadness and fear had faded, he was left with a familiar, dull ache in his bones. Perhaps it was a rebound from being so wracked, or perhaps it was the closeness with which Felix held him. Whatever it’s source, he knew its meaning.

“Felix?” he murmured, tilting his head up to kiss the underside of his jaw.

“Mm?” 

“Can- can I have you, Felya? Right now?” He deepens his kisses, pressing them open-mouthed and languid along Felix’s neck and collarbone, delighting in the soft moans they bring from his husband. Felix rolls him onto his back, propping himself up over him on his elbows, letting their groins graze oh so tantalizingly. There’s a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Can you be good for me?” he asks, letting one hand start to explore the reaches of Sylvain’s stomach and hipbones.

“‘f course,” Sylvain mewls, “Always good for you, baby.” 

Felix chuckles, shuffling backwards and beginning to press chaste kisses where his hands were a moment earlier. “That is no way or shape true, and you know that, you little bastard (he says it with the utmost adoration). But I’ll let it slide for tonight. Just lie back let me take care of you. And stay still. I’ll make you feel good, but you don’t come until I say so.”

The kisses become less chaste, wetter and more carnal. Felix sucks a few marks above his hipbones- a place where they won’t be seen, but will doubtless be felt with every movement that he makes. He feels it on his tongue as Sylvain shudders beneath him. If this feeling could be bottled, or put under his tongue as a troche, what more could he want for? His skin is smooth, if pocked with old scars. He is still lean, but less firm with muscle, a result of blessedly more peaceful times. He adores every inch of Sylvain, and is no longer too coy to let it be known.

When he arrives at his pants- simple silk culottes, sticking slightly to his skin with sweat- he gets an idea. Sylvain was definitely the more adventurous one of them when it came to matters of the bedroom, but he felt fairly confident this would be a gesture well-received.

Pressing one more kiss directly under Sylvain’s navel, he took the waistband of his pants between his teeth, looking him in the eye as he dragged them down his thighs, relishing the surprised, but pleased noise that came from Sylvain. He wasn’t wearing smalls. Of course he wasn’t (the animal). That left his mound, wet with slick, exposed.

The first press of Felix’s tongue to his clit made Sylvain yelp, bucking his hips up involuntarily. The movement was cut short by Felix’s strong hands gripping his hips, keeping him in place.

“I told you to stay still,” Felix chided, “Let me enjoy my treat.”

Felix’s tongue was back on him, prodding at his slick folds. The first swipe at his clit had been a shock of electric pleasure, but this hotness built up more slowly. Sylvain groaned with unrestrained pleasure when he felt his tongue enter him, tasting his heat and arousal. When Felix moaned in pleasure, it vibrated throughout Sylvain’s entire body. His tongue began to work faster, obscene noises coming from him as he ravaged his sex. 

“Please- Fe- _ohhh_ Felya, _please,_ ,” Sylvain stuttered, “Please, baby,”

Felix looked up at him, hands still firm on his hips, his mouth and chin dripping obscenely with a mixture of slick and saliva. “Please what, Syl?”

“I wanna come, baby, sweetheart, please let me, you- you feel so good, I can’t- I can’t-” 

Felix cut him off with a suckle on his clit, Sylvain practically shouting in agonized pleasure. He paused his assault, pressing a filthy kiss to Sylvain’s lips. 

“You have been good for me, so… okay, sweetheart. I’ll get back to work.” 

And he did, licking and kissing his folds, thrusting his tongue into the wet heat. He rubbed his clit with his thumb, and almost came in his pants when he felt Sylvain clench around his tongue, half-screaming, half-moaning as he came, gasping expletives and Felix’s name in equal measure.

Sylvain’s body gave out beneath him, sinking into the comfort of the mattress. Felix laid his head on his stomach, jaw aching slightly. He felt Sylvain’s hands begin to play with his hair, brushing through it gently.

“Felya?” he said, voice slightly hoarse.

“Yes?” 

“Not to ask too much, but, um,” Sylvain said, voice sweet and turning into a little laugh, “I could go again. Let you fuck me.” 

Felix scoffed, but couldn’t help laughing a little too. “You _are_ insatiable. But, I can’t say no to an offer like that.” 

Sylvain smiled at him, that dumb, radiant grin he put on when he knew he’d said the right thing. “How d’you want me?” 

Felix sat himself up, shucking his pants and smalls to the floor in a fluid motion before settling back on his heels in front of Sylvain. “Just like this, darling. Let me see you.” 

He couldn’t resist leaning down for another set of kisses, letting his tongue explore the depths of Sylvains mouth and not bothering to hold back the soft moans of delight it produced. So what if he was spoiling him? So what if he was _being_ spoiled? Life hadn’t been kind to either of them until recently. This was well-earned.

Felix lined himself up with Sylvain’s entrance before pushing in gently, mindful of his oversensitivity given his recent orgasm. They groaned in tandem, Sylvain at the warmth of being filled, Felix at the warmth of the heat around his cock. He braced his hands on either side of Sylvain’s head and slowly began to thrust.

“ _Oh, Felya-_ That’s perfect, baby,” Sylvain cooed, an arm wrapped around Felix’s back, the other carding through his hair, “I love you.”

In many ways, that was the thing that got Felix off most- the stimulation was nice, the tightness around his cock and the taste of Sylvain still lingering on his lips- but Sylvain had proven to be such a sincere bedmate. In his younger years, he had had quite the reputation for being a skirt-chaser and a scoundrel, but the first time he’d been with Felix, and every subsequent time, he’d been nothing but sweet, crying out whatever came to his mind, whether it be pearl-clutchingly filthy or tear-jerkingly affectionate. On their wedding night, he’d said something Felix would never forget.

_Let’s make a baby, Felya._

They hadn’t acted on it as of yet- that night, Felix had come in Sylvain’s hand almost instantly at the words, embarrassingly enough- but it was a thought that lingered in the back of his mind at all times. _He trusts me. He loves me. He wants us to have a family._

The memory, combined with the feeling of filling his lover, was driving him towards his breaking point. 

“I’m- I’m close, Syl, where-” 

Sylvain clutched his face in his hands, looking him in the eye.

“Inside, Felya,” he whispered.

Oh. 

“Are- are you sure? You want-” Felix said, gasping between moans.

“I want what I’ve always wanted, beloved. I want us to have a family.”

_Oh._

It didn’t take more than that. Felix felt himself spill inside his husband, groaning out a mangled, heady version of his name. A few thrusts more and he felt Sylvain clench around him again, fisting the sheets and bucking his hips as he came a second time. 

He pulled out, watching his seed spill down Sylvain’s thighs. They both looked more exhausted than they had when they’d gone to bed.

After a little cleaning up, Sylvain laid his head against Felix’s chest again.

“Love you,” he sighed, “More than anything.”

“Love you too, Syl.” 

He took a breath in. “You’re gonna be a good dad.”

Felix pressed his face into Sylvain’s hair, only partially to hide the trickle of tears that flowed from his eyes. “You will be too, my love.” 

-

Sylvain dreams again that night; for the first time, of the future.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok where to start because these boys drive me fucking crazy  
> -I love when people use the shortened versions of the Russian name “Dmitri” for Dimitri (Dima and Mitya) so boy oh boy was I pleased to learn that Felix has a shortened version too (Felya)! Time to abuse this knowledge
> 
> \- Blue Lions was the first route I played and I was… surprised, to say the least, at the amount of trauma those students specifically have to deal with right off the bat. I mean, Ashe has to kill his adoptive father in like, the third mission. And then Sylvain is killing Miklan a few months later. In that playthrough, it just happened that Sylvain dealt the killing blow and surprise! I’ve been thinking about it for three months
> 
> -I also really REALLY want to explore Sylvain and Felix’s relationship as it changes from childhood to academy years to war and post war because hnnnnnnng 
> 
> -Bastard (affectionate) is definitely what Sylvain’s name is in Felix’s phone lol
> 
> -As for the pregnancy thing, I understand a lot of trans men/transmasculine folk might not ever want to experience pregnancy (I’m one of them), but I also hope y’all understand that’s not universally true. People are allowed agency over their bodies and the ways they use them.
> 
> Also, I’m on twitter as [hermes babie](https://twitter.com/hermesbabie)! Most of my content there is related to Hades but I’m trying to get more FE3H content there as well.


End file.
